


This is Home

by writeitinred



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crying, Home, Hurt, M/M, comforty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:12:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeitinred/pseuds/writeitinred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John still can't believe Sherlock is back, and he is still angry but with just one look at Sherlock his world come crumbling down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting here, and initially I wanted to post this for Valentines Day but didn't get around to it, but here it is now!

The day had been long: looking at bodies in the morgue, chasing people all throughout London, and John had to keep reminding himself that Sherlock was in fact in front of him. He was breathing, laughing, smiling, thinking, and John still couldn't believe it.

Now they were home. God did he ever think he would call it that after the incident? No. Certainty not. Since Sherlock had the incident the flat never felt like home.

John put the kettle on the stove, turning up the heat before letting out a long sigh. He turned to lean his weight on the kitchen counter. He scrubbed his face with his hands, hearing the light footsteps of Sherlock entering the kitchen. 

He didn't look at Sherlock, even when the man came near him. What he did hurt John, and he was still struggling not to have a melt down with all the emotions he has kept in. 

"Don't" John said as Sherlock opened his mouth to talk. "Don't talk. I don't want to hear it." 

John's eyes flickered toward Sherlock, and he wished he didn't because the hurt in his eyes made John crumble. He felt Sherlock's arms wrap around him as he let the tears fall. 

"I missed you so fucking much, Sherlock. I was so alone without you." 

"I know. I wanted to write you, to tell you everything, but I was afraid that you might have spoiled my plan or ask me to come back, and if you did that then I would have because for you I would do anything. Please forgive me."

They just stood there, Sherlock comforting while John cried, while the sun settled below the horizon. The flat was getting dark, but the held on to each other until what little of light they had left was gone. 

John pushed himself away from Sherlock to look up at him. He slid his hands up Sherlock's chest to cup his cheeks, pulling Sherlock down to place his lips on his. 

It started out gentle, a simple reminder that nothing could get in there way any more, then the kiss took on an urgent edge. Desperate to map out each other's bodies they haven't seen in so long. 

Hands gripped tight, breathing fastened, soft moans, reminding them both of what they had been missing. 

Then the kiss slowed, returning to that gentle rhythm. Pulling back, they just stared at each other. Knowing that no words would be said, what was spoken in silence. 

This-this is what John and Sherlock had been missing. Love, each other, and most of all: home.

Without each other there would be no place that felt like home to them. One would be lost without the other, and tonight they had both realized that. 

And with one more kiss, they lead each other to the bedroom, where they slid together like a puzzle piece, marking a map on each other's bodies. 

John didn't need to speak out loud for Sherlock to know that he had forgiven him. It was said when John kissed him, when John touched him, when John looked at him. 

All that mattered was that he was home, with John by his side and he couldn't have asked for more.


End file.
